Day to Day Life

My life is trapped in the land of Ikalla. Our home is in a barren, freezing desert, with only bitter herbs and grasses that grow. Even animals are few and far between, with hunting only providing food for a handful of families. Livestock struggle as much as anyone, so they are only grown by a select few. Maybe some people can survive in a barren desert like this, but our souls are too worn and weak.

Once, when I was a child, a deer had approached town and gotten stuck on a fence near my house. My father called his friend the butcher and we shared it together. That was the only fresh meat I've ever had, and the happiest memory of my childhood.

I look around my house, making sure I haven't misplaced anything stupid that could get us in trouble. We don't have much here. The only things beside essentials are old aluminum wrapping folded into little decorations perched on top of the cabinets. They stare back at me as I pace the room.

My stomach growls, and I put my hand over it to keep its cries at bay. Of course, it's the end of the week. The time the stomach of every person in Ikalla waits for with their palms wet with sweat and throats dry. He'll be here soon.

For the third time in the past hour, I walk over to a free-standing cabinet to the left of the kitchen. The wood is old and cracked in several places, with stains of food that had splashed great distances from the stove. Opening it, I see the jar I'm looking for tucked between stashes of worn books I've never read but don't feel like throwing away. I pick up the clear jar and blink slowly at its contents.

"Oh? Trying to do a magic trick?"

I look up and see Elyna. Her short brown hair is wet and free from ash. She must have bathed after she got home and I didn't notice. As a furnace tender, it's only a matter of time before her whole body is covered head to toe in soot again.

Anyway. "What are you talking about?"

Elyna smiles wide and waves her arms even wider. "Maybe if I just keep staring at it the coins will take pity on me and reproduce!" she swoons in what I assume is supposed to be a mockery of my voice.

That's not even a magic trick. I frown and shake the jar. How in the world is she so cheerful when the delivery man is coming tonight? With a prayer to a god I don't believe in, I take the bowl out and tip over the contents into my hand. I count. One… two… As if I hope the number increased since the last time I did this somehow. Elyna is right.

"Five hundred fils…" I mutter. There's a lump in my throat I try to swallow, but it's too stubborn and stays firmly in place. It makes me feel like I'm choking.

"I know what you're thinking," she says, patting me on the shoulder.

Of course you do. "What?" Her cheerful grin is starting to tick me off a bit. Oh, is that what she means?

Appearing to read my mind again, she continues, "Life is what it is, you know? Or, should I say, 'better luck next time'?"

"Won't you also suffer the consequences?"

"Don't be silly." Her pats turn to a firmer yet still lighthearted smack. "That's what you're for."

Why do I even live with this woman.

Knock knock.

The noise echoes in our tiny house. Our banter extinguishes like a pinched wick.

Knock knock.

"Coming!" I call, sticking the jar into my jacket pocket. Nearly tripping, I make my way to the front door and open it.

Inky black darkness from the rest of town wraps around the tall figure standing there. His body is cloaked in armor like tree bark, with cracked gray-ish brown ridges slithering around his frame. On his right side, he carries a satchel far too big and bulky for someone to move around with easily. On his left, an electric baton attached to his hip. And his face…

There is a blond man staring back at me. His dark eyes are sunken deep in their sockets, like he hasn't slept in days. Every time I see this man, those bags of his seem to get deeper. But his round nose and thin jaw haven't changed. Every week of my entire life, this man has come to me, giving life and taking livelihood away.

"Delivery."

"Come in," says the man I'm looking at. Or rather—

Myself in the mirror.

In our cold, barren land, every face watching you on a street corner with baton in hand, every face that beats you and steals away your life, every face that crushes your dreams into a decaying husk on the ground. It's always yours.

"Your name?" the muffled voice of the delivery man asks. His mirrored mask reflects the lights behind me as well.

"Solen Marsis."

The delivery man takes a step forward, dragging in dust from the road. His head doesn't move to look around the room, though I can't see if his eyes wander. His arm moves, and I feel the very collagen holding my bones together squeeze.

But of course, it's just to reach his satchel. He pulls out a few packages wrapped in paper and tied in string. They don't have a smell, but I recognize the size as being rations of dried chicken and turnips. There is a variety of different meat and vegetables they bring, but which one you receive that week falls to luck.

I take the bundle and hand it to Elyna behind me. She actually smiles, for some reason I can't fathom. Maybe she's looking forward to turnips for the fifth time in a row.

"Thank you," I say back to the delivery man. My reflection doesn't look as appreciative as I would hope. I'm simply bracing myself for what's next.

"And your taxes?"

I see myself go pale in the mirror. My eyes remain fixed forward. Trying to keep my trembling hands steady, I reach into my pocket to grab the jar and pull it out, then dump it into the palm of my hand. The weight of the coins is so little I feel like laughing at myself. Elyna might be right about just letting what happens happen.

Once I hand the coins over, the delivery man thumbs over the money with his gloved hand. There is a moment of silence which stretches on far too long. "This isn't enough," he says.

My eyes quiver in my reflection. I see my lips tremble as I open my mouth. "I'll… I'll have extra next month."

"Denied."

Teeth clenched, I feel like saying something else, but I don't know what. I know what comes after this. Dammit! Not again. I can't keep living like this!

The delivery man reaches for his left side, where his baton is kept.

As he raises it, my eyes shoot over to Elyna. She only shrugs and gives me a pitying smile. That's fine. I'm not asking for her to save me anyway. Better luck next time.

I close my eyes just before the impact smacks me to the ground. The blow is quick, and it takes a moment for the pain to hit. When it does, rivets of agony shoot through my head and paralyze me to the tips of my fingers.

Elyna kneels down next to me and rubs my shoulders without a word. She doesn't flinch this close to the delivery man or even look his way. "Well, at least the electricity wasn't on," she jokes.

Thanks I guess.

She's right, though. My head throbs, but I feel no convulsions or nausea. And I can see in my reflection I'm not even bleeding. I'll live to sell my soul another day. He went easy on me. For some reason that doesn't make me feel better.

But he must have heard my thoughts, because he swoops down, coming in close until a dark eyeball is the only thing I can see. The veins of my eye pulse red, covering my vision with a crimson spiral surrounding a dark pit. My pupil swallows me up and drags me into its darkness.

"Don't be late next time."

The mirrored mask leaves my field of vision as the man stands back up and puts his baton away. He looks at me, then nods at Elyna, then retreats back to the black void outside from which he'd come.